Children of the Gate
by Coutelier
Summary: A mysterious new enemy has started targeting the children of a group of heroes who travelled together more than twenty years ago. Who? Why? When? Where?  Well no one knows yet.  That's why it's mysterious.
1. Chapter 1

_I was trying to think of an idea for a short halloween themed story, and I had this idea but I realised I couldn't do it properly in short story form. Set twenty years on from ToB... I apologise for spelling mistakes and any inaccuracies. Don't hesitate to point them out when you see any, since I won't find them otherwise_** :)  
**

**Children of the Gate**

**Part One**

Jaella Jansen was beginning to think that following in her foster father's footsteps into the turnip business hadn't been a good idea at all. It had been fun at first; the smell of fresh turnip that worked its way into her clothes, skin and hair acted like a pheromone to all the cute male gnomes. Any time she walked into a tavern wee folk bombarded her with compliments like 'a woman doesn't need to wash to smell good'. But despite all that flattery and attention, if she survived tonight then she never wanted to see another turnip ever again.

Athkatla was dead at night. The little gnome trotted to a halt in an alley so that she could catch her breath. Wiping sweat from her brow, she thought she might be the only living person in the city. Of course that was nonsense; a short distance away in almost any direction someone was fast asleep in their beds. But outside in the pale moonlight were nothing more than ghosts. And turnips.

The shrill scream of her pursuer shattered the solitude. It had found her already; standing on thin branch-like legs and an angry visage etched onto its bulbous purple head, the green leaves standing straight atop of it seemed like flames. Her foster father, Jan Jansen, told many stories (although often they were the same story but with the names of the characters changed), but she didn't recall ever hearing one where the turnips fought back. Of course, such a thing would be utterly ridiculous, or so she would have thought if it wasn't actually happening.

No time to question the sanity of the narrative, she started to run and hurdy gurdy turnip man ambled after her. Even though it ambled it had proven it was more than capable of keeping pace with the gnome's stunted limbs. In fact, as the pursuit dragged on Jaella started to feel that she wasn't being chased as herded. Perhaps there was a whole family of turnip people waiting to feast on still warm gnomish flesh; turnips were renowned for being one of the most social vegetables.

Kicking up dirt now (there were no cobbles around here like there were in richer parts of the city; the streets of the slums were exposed earth, good for growing turnips due to the abundance of fertilizer), Jaella rounded another bend.

"Mating Griffins!" The gnomish curse probably lost something in the translation, but she had found herself in a dead end and could hear hurdy-gurdy closing in behind. "Why won't you give me a break!" She cried at the sky.

"I just might, dearie," a rasping voice said. It surprised Jaella, since it had been a rhetorical question. It turned out however not to be the sky that had spoken, but a human woman… at least Jaella assumed it was human. She sounded old, and stood upon a wooden staircase wearing black robes and a black hood, face shrouded with shadow. "I just might, after hearing you yell like that. Can't be having with all that noise."

Jaella wisely decided not to say anything… if it dressed like a witch and sounded like a witch, chances were…

Turnip man ambled round the bend; glancing between the creature and the witch, the gnomish woman guardedly backed away from them both, to the opposite side of the alley from where the old woman was. Unfortunately there her back was only greeted by a wall.

"Well done pet… you led her here nicely," the woman floated down to the ground. Turnip man bowed it's head with a slight swagger, like it was waiting to be patted.

"Led who? Me?" Jaella asked and really stated the obvious. "Just… who are you and what do you want?"

"Well dearie, I, quite plainly, am a witch. And what I want is for you to come with me."

"Why?"

"Well, that's what witches do ain't it? We kidnap children and boil them in our cauldrons."

"Ahh… well, in that case, I think you've made a quite elementary error. You see, I'm not actually a child; just a gnome. I'm sure it's an easy mistake for you tall folk to make."

"You're someone's child, aren't you? No, there's been no mistake. Now, are you going to come along nicely?"

"Weeelll… I think I should probably let my cousins and my mum and dad know before going on any trip," Jaella made a break for it, darting between the witch and her pet turnip. But then, as suddenly as her daring escape had begun, her limbs went solid and no longer able to respond to her brain's commands.

"You can't run from a witch," the old woman said under a tremendous intake of air. "With just the right word, my magic can travel a lot faster than you can."

As the witch approached, the only muscles of Jaella's working were those on her face. She seemed to think she could use them add weight to her brains desperate signals to the rest of her body. All she achieved was making herself look rather constipated, but was able to utter the words; "Go and make love to yourself, you self loving piece of bovine excrement!" Again, the impact of the words was lost a little in the translation from gnomish into common.

"Well that isn't nice… really not nice at all. Where we're going you will learn some manners," holding out an arm, the witch swept her cloak around Jaella.

And then there was nothing left standing in that alley, save for the ghosts of the night.

* * *

Several days later and several miles to the north and east of the City of Coin, the village of Nashkel lay beneath a blue and purple sky. It was possibly more accurate to call Nashkel a street rather than a village; on that street was a temple, a general store, an inn and a tavern where travellers, farmers who worked the nearby fields and workers from the mines to the south would occasionally gather to talk about farming and mining, since it had been nearly twenty five years since there was anything else to talk about.

That had been the time of the Iron Crisis, when the ore had become tainted and anything forged from it crumbled into dust. The city state of Baldur's Gate to the north threatened war with Amn. Nashkel, being on the border between states not to mention being the source of the tainted iron would undoubtedly have been the first battlefield of that war. It's inhabitants then had been ever vigilant, believing it was a matter of time before the northerners attacked and they would be called on to defend their homes and country. Old swords and suits of armor were brought down from attics, treated, polished and made ready for the battles ahead, whilst young boys sought to put the things they'd learnt in The Rashemi Rangers Handbook into actual practice. But, contrary to everyone's expectations, peace broke out instead and all that effort had been in vain.

At about the same time as the crisis there had also been this paladin who went mad and killed a lot of people, but since then Nashkel had been a quiet, sleepy little row of houses. Carts and carriages came and went, but despite occasionally seeing strange faces that activity had merely become another part of the monotony.

Too young to remember the far more interesting times in the past was a half-elf called Fay. At just seventeen, she had been born several years after those events and after the dramatic saga of the Sword Coast's heroes of that time came to an end, at least as far as most bards were concerned. There had been many songs and ballads written about the children of the dead god Bhaal, most of them with a quite alarming 'truth' to 'bovine excrement' ratio. But most of them came to an end after the protagonist, standing in the bowels of hell, was offered the chance to become a god. But he turned it down in order to be with the woman he loved. That was the ending most people liked and it had the merit of that part at least being true.

But life had gone on for the surviving children of Bhaal and those close to them, at least for a while. And then one day shortly after Fay was born, Cassidy Gorionson, the greatest hero the sword coast had ever known, who had fought dragons, liches and been to the hells and back on more than one occasion, was crushed to death by a bull that escaped from its pen. He who could have been a god died as a mortal man. That however was not considered by bards to not be an uplifting enough end to the saga.

Fay was sat on a stone boundary watching the sun set, committing to memory the vibrancy of the colours. Whilst elsewhere in Nashkel others plucked feathers, she plucked at a lute. Whilst others regarded life here as tedious, she liked it here.

The young half-elf had spent most of her life being towed from village to village by her mother and was glad now to have a home that stayed still. These past few years had been enjoyable for other reasons as well, not least of which was meeting Klint.

"You could come with me," the young, square jawed and blonde helmite suggested. Although just the same age as her, it was clear even under his brown leather tunic that he would soon have the build of a boxer.

"To Athkatla?" Fay looked up and smiled sadly. With her elfish features, wide blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair, Fay was regarded as being the prettiest girl in the village. The number one contender for that title was her own mother, but Aerie was usually off on some quest or other. Fay meanwhile was sat on the stone wall wearing a pink tunic and pants that her aunty Imoen had given her on her last birthday. Pink wasn't a great colour to wear if you were a thief, but eye catching enough for an aspiring bard to wear.

"We could find a place for you to stay," he went on, "Perhaps… perhaps you could stay with the Delryn's. They're friends of your mothers aren't they?"

"Oh, I get it. You're not asking because you care about me; you just want an excuse to call round at the home of one of the most influential members of the order. Perhaps be invited in for tea and before you know it you'll be chatting, slapping each other on the back, comparing sword sizes and all that other manly stuff… that's about it right?"

"I was hoping for biscuits to go with the tea. Perhaps with flakes of that sweet brown stuff they import from Maztica."

"I… I can't," the rosy half-elf brushed her hair with a hand, revealing the points of her ears. "I mean, I can't leave Quayle by himself. He's one of those really hyper intelligent people who, because they're so caught up in solving all the problems of the multiverse, forget where everything is in the kitchen. Really, if I'm not around he would starve. And he's been sick the last few days as well."

"Your mother will be back soon though?"

"Yes… but for how long?" Fay sighed and hung her head. "I'm sorry… but my life is here for now. I've just gotten too used to it."

Klint sighed as well, planting himself on the wall next to his sweet heart. He probably knew it was a long shot anyway; he like many people in the village regarded her brother Quayle as a bit of a parasite, living off his mother and his sister and not giving anything back. But Fay was devoted to him and nothing would convince her to leave him behind. After about a minutes silence he settled on a slightly different topic of conversation.

"Your mother's nice," he said, as if it made up for what a sad specimen of a man her brother was.

"She is… when she's around anyway," the reddish haired girl sighed once more. "It was nice in the old days when we used to travel around together, but when we came here I was really excited about getting a proper house. Seems she only wanted to dump us somewhere so she could go off and have her own adventures."

"You should be proud of what she does; many paladins even look up to her. I expect she just doesn't want to put you in harms way."

"I guess… but she could have taken a few more years off to be with us. I mean she's been hunting slavers and that since before I was born and they're still around aren't they?"

It was Aerie's life work; despite all of Nalia De'Arnise's legal reforms, the noblewoman had not been able to outlaw monsters from existing, and worst of all the trafficking of people still went on. The unfortunate truth was that too many of Amn's most influential people had become influential through the trading of lives. However, Fay's mother worked to ensure that slavery didn't remain a very profitable business for long. Even with a family of her own, the elf just wasn't the type of person who could stay at home while she knew such things went on; it wasn't just limited to Amn either. Aerie would likely keep going with her vendetta until it reached Thay.

Fay knew enough about her mothers past to know why she was so determined to ensure that slavers never stole anyone else's life. It was good work that had to be done. But, call the half-elven girl a selfish little brat if you want, but she just didn't care about some villagers in a far off land. She wanted her mother to be here with her.

"Anyway," she shook her head, "there are drawbacks to having an elf for a mother. Last summer we went to Nalia's birthday party and some of the people there thought she was _my_ younger sister."

Klint nodded understandingly. He had to stop himself many times from picturing a scene where Fay climbed into her mothers bed… it just didn't seem right to have such thoughts.

"When I'm a Paladin of the Order," he changed the subject once more, "I will return here, and… well, I'll bring you back something nice."

"You'd better," Fay grinned and draped herself across his shoulders, "because if you don't, I might have to write some horrid self-pitying ballad about how neglected and lonely I am."

"Wouldn't want you feeling neglected," he said. And then he kissed her.

* * *

As the sun gradually disappeared, birds chirruped and called to guide their kin back to their nests. It wasn't long before Fay and Klint heeded the call as well. Being a traditionalist, Klint walked her home.

Fay's house was located behind the other buildings; within the village it was second in size only to the temple. Like the other homes though it was still constructed mostly out of timber and plaster. Once it had belonged to the Lord and Lady of the lands, but they had since moved on to bigger and better things. Just inside the low wooden fence an old caravan rested on the grass with 'Quayle's Circus' painted on the side in big red letters. Quayle's Circus in fact was no more; the ring master had long ago passed on to another plane. This was a relic of an enterprise that had for decades brought people joy and happiness and every once in while broken the endless monotony.

Fay had seen the circus once when she was very young, and she had learnt that most of that was an illusion. She'd cheered and gasped at the displays of magic and acrobatics, envied the lifestyles of the very glamorous female performers; but then her mother brought her behind the scenes to meet them. It was only when you stood close to one of those glamorous acrobats that you noticed the tautness of the muscles and the bruises on the skin. And that was the circus.

The caravan had served as her family's home for many years, but it had now been a long time since it had moved from its current spot. Horses nevertheless were kept in a small stable. Or usually they were…

"Whose horse is that?" Klint asked. An all black steed stood next to the caravan munching on the grass.

"Don't know… but it's not ours," she knew this because both their horses were brown. She cautiously approached, the stallion paying her no heed as she searched through the saddle bags for some clue as to the identity of the owner. To reach the saddle bags she had to get around the swords and the spiked shields. She found a flask of water, healing potions, and pouches filled with herbs. From glancing through some of her mother's books she knew enough about the plants to know that most of them could only be used for one thing; making poisons.

"What is it?" Klint suddenly started to whisper in response to the half-elf's suddenly pensive face.

"Whoever it is, they're not here to ask us which god we worship," she explained. She realized that Quayle was probably still asleep and whoever these poisons belonged to likely inside the house. "I-I'm sure it's probably nothing," she unconvincingly tried to assure her boyfriend, "You should go on home." The half elf was already treading very carefully towards the front door.

Her muscles suddenly went tense when she found it was open, but nevertheless she willed herself to carry on. She had no idea what she would if she found an intruder; she knew a handful of cantrips from her mother, but you couldn't exactly mage light somebody unconscious. But despite her heart bounding and her lungs suddenly being unwilling to release any air, she knew her brother may be in danger and felt herself driven on by some sort of instinct.

Inside now, and there was no torch light anywhere. This wasn't much of a disadvantage to a half-elf though. Her night vision enabled her to spot the attack coming… she narrowly avoided being hit by a huge fist.

As she darted away, the intruder turned around only to be met with a small mage light suddenly appearing right in front of his eyes. He was startled and he staggered, and the enabled Fay to get her first proper look at him; he was a huge bald man in dark leather armor. Well over six feet tall and packed full of muscle. It was rather a disheartening sight for the young woman who had gone in there without any sort of plan. Desperately she looked around for a weapon.

"Run Fay!" Klint, who hadn't listened, leapt up behind the intruder ready to smash a wooden chair across the mans back. But the intruder had recovered from the momentary blindness he had suffered from the mage light and despite his size showed incredibly quick reaction; ducking the chair blow, thrusting out with his elbow causing Klint to double and then finally an uppercut which sent the young helmite rolling backwards across the floorboards. The intruder then turned his attention back to Fay.

Horrified by what she'd seen, the young half-elf really wanted to run; but she couldn't abandon Quayle. Instead, she turned her fear into a sudden burst of anger. Wielding a piece of firewood she charged at the intruder with a snarl, rather than waiting for him to come to her.

The intruder easily swatted aside the makeshift cudgel with one hand, whilst almost simultaneously the fingers of his other caught wrapped themselves around her thin throat. Caught in a vice like grip, Fay found herself lifted more than a foot into air, staring down the massive arm into the dark and merciless eyes of the man.

"What the hell is going on?!" The room suddenly lit up, due to a torch being held up by a dishevelled brown haired half elf. Quayle usually slept in his clothes and hadn't shaved or combed his hair for days. He smelt strongly of pipe smoke.

"Quayle… r-run!" Fay barely managed to rasp.

"Why? What for?" He asked. His sister, still attached to the end of the man's arm stared at him in shock and incomprehension. "Oh… you silly mare, this man is our uncle, Sarevok. You just haven't seen him since you were a baby have you?" The middle aged but still very formidable warrior released the girl, allowing her to fall roughly on her buttocks.

"Our… o-our uncle?" Fay struggled to take in much needed air. "But… wh-why was he sneaking around the house?"

"Why were you sneaking around, in your own home?" Sarevok deep, booming voice had lost none of its pitch or timbre over the years.

"Sarevok!" Klint finished picking up all his teeth. "Not _the_ Sarevok, the man responsible for the iron shortage and for nearly causing a war between Baldur's Gate and Amn?!" The warrior regarded the aspiring paladin like a wolf regards a foal.

"And who, might I ask, are you?" The huge man asked. "Further, what were you doing all evening… with _my_ niece?"

"Wh… um, that is, nothing. Sir," the boy stood very straight and very still under the man's penetrating stare.

"Seriously," Fay intervened, although she was still rubbing her sore throat, "we kissed and then we cuddled for a bit. That was it."

"Very well… run along home now boy," Sarevok sneered. Klint looked to Fay, as if to ask for her permission to leave. This aggravated the warrior. "I – SAID – _RUN!_" He roared. The boy yelped and darted outside, not slowing down even when he slipped on the doormat.

"Kissed and you cuddled?" Quayle smiled facetiously.

"That's all we did!" Insisted his younger sister.

"Doesn't matter… he'll be off to Athkatla in a few days and you'll never hear from him again."

"What are you talking about?"

"Big city, isn't it? He'll learn a lot of things; including that there are lots of other pretty girls in the world."

"You…!" The younger siblings face flushed red. "I don't suppose it's worth asking what you've spent all day doing? Sleeping and playing with toys I suppose."

"They're _models_, not toys. And since you asked, today I conquered Icewind Dale."

"You mean you conquered a white tablecloth."

"Can any person join in this conversation?" Sarevok said, but his niece and nephew were paying him no heed and instead were staring daggers at each other. "I said…"

"You're both lucky I was here," Quayle suddenly broke away and remembered his uncle. "If you'd killed Fay, mother would have made a soup out of you." Sarevok grunted in response to the statement, but didn't attempt to argue the point. Although he didn't understand where it came from, he had learnt respect for Aerie's strength and power. "Why are you here anyway?"

"I was sent to bring you two to safety… although it seems you're in the greatest danger when you're near each other."

"Safety from what?"

"This I do not know; what I do know is that Lando Corthala, Moira Delryn, Leona Firecam and Jaella Jansen have all vanished under mysterious circumstances."

"What?" Fay gasped. "How?"

"This I do not know either, hence the word 'mysterious'."

"Well… what's it got to do with us then?"

"The only thing these four all have in common is that they are the offspring of a group who travelled together many years ago, before you two were born. That group included your mother. So I have been sent to bring you to a place where you will be safe and protected. I was _not_ sent to answer insipid questions. Now pack only what is absolutely necessary for a journey…"

"Just a minute… I'm not about to just rush off into the night with some guy I hardly even know. Where is mom?!"

"She will meet us along the way."

"Oh, and you expect me to just take your word for that do you?" Fay stood in front of Sarevok with her arms cross. She shuddered involuntarily when he stepped closer to stare her down, but nevertheless she held her ground and was prepared to carry on fighting if need be.

"You really are very much like her," he grinned. No one could tell if it was friendly or not. Fay's wide eyes watched every one if his movements as he slowly raised his left arm in front of his chest, made a fist, and then with his right arm, reached into the left bracer and pulled out a scroll. The young half elf managed to only flinch slightly when he thrust the parchment at her. "Here." Fay took it, not taking her eyes off him until she had started to read.

'_Dear daughter,_

_I realise that of both my children, you are the most stubborn. I also realise that Sarevok can be most disagreeable. He will try to bully and intimidate people, but beneath all that bluster is the heart of a basically honourable man and he will take care of you until I can arrive._

_I know this is sudden; in my life I have friends and I have made enemies. I had hoped to keep you safe from all that, but now all our worst fears have been realised. This time, our enemy will not face us directly, but instead is striking at our beloved._

_Please, accompany Sarevok to De'Arnise keep to the south. I promise I will be there, and with the help of my friends I will keep you safe._

_Mom'_

Fay examined the letter very carefully; it certainly looked like her mothers hand writing, and she also recognised the De'Arnise family seal. Sarevok didn't look like the kind of scholarly type who could pull such an accurate forgery. Still, he could have lackeys, or even be a lackey himself...

"Are you satisfied now, dear niece?" The huge man jeered.

"For now," she said, thrusting the scroll back into his hands in a little act of defiance.

She was trying so desperately to prove that she wasn't weak and afraid… Sarevok found the similarities with her mother almost amusing. Family bonds aside though, he didn't feel as if he owed their mother any more favours after this and was keen to get them to the keep as quickly as possible.

It was good thing that despite the years of disuse, the Quayle's caravan was still in good enough condition to make one more trip. Sarevok went and prepared the horses.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm sorry this has taken a very long time for me to post... I've been having all sorts of trouble with computers, especially laptops, and with friends and family and doctors and psyciatrists and at one point I was abducted by aliens and had to take part in an epic battle to save the universe. But I'm back now and so is this:_

**Children of the Gate**

**Part Two**

Many miles from Nashkel, away to the south and west over the Cloud Peak mountains and lying next to the ocean was Athkatla, the great City of Coin. From a distance it didn't really look much different to any other city on the Sword Coast and was surrounded by great stone walls. A little closer, and it could be seen that the walls were far better maintained than most. Entering a gate on the south side of the river and most delusions of grandeur were soon lost altogether; even in city of coin there were always a few who held onto far more of it than the rest.

Padding quietly through such a gate now was a figure wrapped in a grey hooded cloak and leading a grey horse behind her. Her head was held low so that she almost hunched, whilst the hood pulled up meant that shadow completely concealed her features, especially at this hour when the day gave way to flickering torchlight.

The single guard on the gate yawned as he waved her through; aside from the staff that she lent on she didn't appear to be carrying much baggage. Besides, there would be a change of shift soon and the last thing he wanted was to get bogged down in more work. No doubt quite a not inconsiderable amount of suspect packages had somehow slipped by him during the course of the day; one of the disadvantages of Amn's military being composed more of mercenaries than by dedicated professionals.

The figure continued leading her beast, moving in a manner so devoid of any pretence that most people would pass her by without ever noticing she was there, unless they were looking for something soft they could kick. With the current coin distribution being somewhat unbalanced, there were always plenty who were. And it really was quite a nice horse. It wasn't long at all before the figure suddenly stopped and lifted her head slightly. As she twisted it back and forth, an observer would now have caught glimpses of a pretty face with blue eyes and blonde locks. She might have been attractive; but her body language said that she didn't think so, and so why should anyone else?

Somewhere, someone was in pain. She could hear the sobbing, and soon tracked the tears back to their source. A small boy in dirty clothes curled up by the side of the road as if he'd been discarded there. Her heart clenched; hastily tying her mount to her a nearby post, she then made her way across, bending and reaching out gently.

"Are… are you hurt?" She asked, her voice full of genuine concern. The boy continued to sob, not acknowledging her presence. "I'm Aerie," she carried on undeterred. "I can help you if you're hurting anywhere…" Still no response. There was no sign of any injury, but with his back turned away there was no way she could be sure unless she moved in closer. "Do you live near here…"

Suddenly now there was movement; clearly her fears that he might be injured were misplaced as in one movement he jumped to his feet snatching a purse from her belt and running down an unlit alley. Stunned for but a moment, Aerie soon was running after him. Still it was more out of concern for the boy than for her own lost property.

It soon became pitch black in the alley; as an elf, Aerie had her night vision to guide her but she would still have much preferred day light. As it was, everything appeared still and colourless like the inside of a tomb. It only took a minute to catch up to the boy; he was stood on top of a barrel, waiting apparently. The elf paused a moment to catch her breath, and that was when they came out of the shadows.

Aerie spun around but she was too late to avoid the first blow which caught her on the side of the head knocking her face first to the ground. She then felt several strong pairs of hands grab hold of her and pull the elven maid to her feet; she attempted to struggle, but the muscles in her body offered no resistance whatsoever to several much heavier and stronger assailants. In no time an arm was coiled round her thin neck whilst others held the rest of her body still.

"Got a pretty one here boss!" She was unable to turn around and see who the chuckling voice belonged to. "Think we could have some fun before we finish her?" In front of her, a man with a scarred face emerged from the shadows, scrutinizing the captive with eyes devoid of any sense of pity or mercy.

"They'll be expecting us back in the hideout," he spat out. "Let's just get it done," with the others holding her, Aerie could only stare ahead in horror as he stepped forward unsheathing a dagger; he leant in close, so that she could feel his hot breath on her face. Slowly, the scar face pressed the blade against her smooth cheek drawing a trickle of blood. "Well," he grinned, "maybe there's time for a little fun…"

"P-please," Aerie panted and pleaded weakly. She felt her heart pounding whilst her tears started to mingle with the blood flowing from the side of her head. "Please… d-don't," she begged, but the man was devoid of any pity.

--

In Nashkel, something came crashing down outside the front door to Aerie's house. This was soon followed by yet more bickering between the two siblings, which Sarevok tried his best to ignore. He had however hit a roadblock; he had successfully attached the horses to the caravan, only to find that wheels wouldn't turn. They were somehow magically clamped. Studying the length and breadth of the vehicle he could find no obvious means of releasing them; he had tried using a scroll to dispel the magic, but to no avail. There was a small stick in front of the drivers seat about the width of a finger that seemed to serve no purpose whatsoever, but… in the end he just grew frustrated and marched to where the children were still arguing.

The boy, Quayle, was attempting with little success to drag a large chest towards the vehicles. He tugged and puffed, but the heavy object continually became caught on stones and raised pieces of earth, requiring a seemingly mighty effort to be moved over. Even if he eventually made to the caravan before collapsing due to heart failure, there was clearly no way he could have lifted the chest to get it inside.

"I told you to bring only what was necessary," Sarevok reminded them, with just the smallest hint of warning.

"This… this is necessary!" The boy, now sweating profusely, grunted and heaved once more. This time, the handle slipped from his grasp and he fell roughly on his backside, while the chest lurched violently to the side and the lid fell open. A large number of books slipped out. Some of them, like Elminster's Ecologies, Sarevok recognised since they were books Aerie had picked when they'd travelled together many years ago. There were various other books on magic and a few works of fiction; Gnomish texts detailing various inventions that had no doubt belonged to the old Quayle and books on philosophy. As he would have expected to find in the Avariel's house, this was an eclectic collection of undoubtedly worthy knowledge, but…

"Necessary?" Sarevok grunted, still with that hint of warning.

"Well, I'd get bored without something to read," Quayle answered as he tried to rethink his strategy. Apparently he was unable to take any sort of hint.

"I can give you plenty to do so you don't get bored."

"Hmmm… would you mind? I'm trying to think…"

Sarevok did mind however; he was unused to, and definitely did not like being ignored. Despite having only met them a short while ago, he would have beaten the two of them senseless, if they could actually be any more senseless, if it weren't for the fact that an angry and powerful witch wasn't the kind of trouble he wanted at this point in his life. Angered, he started to step forward. Fay, who had been quiet for a while, was immediately in his path.

"There's plenty of room on board," she insisted, "this won't slow us down at all."

The aging warrior looked from Quayle, still oblivious to anything going on outside his own head, to his niece who glaring at him fiercely. Her eyes were trying to say 'If you try to hurt my brother, I am going to try and stop you… and, okay there might only be about a one in six thousand chance of me actually hurting you at all, but however small it's still a chance so the question is, do you _want_ to risk it?' Against all mathematical sense, he found that he didn't.

Instead, he shoved Fay aside, bent down and scooped the books back inside the chest with arm. He then proceeded to lift the container with ease and to swing and throw it into the back of the caravan. Once he had done that he went to fetch his own steed and tie it to the back. The whole time he wasn't even breathing hard. He noticed that, along with the books, the chest also contained some wooden boards and metallic figurines. So, the boy liked playing war games…

"Well… that's was one way of getting it in I suppose," Quayle sulked. He was disappointed that he hadn't got to do anything involving rollers and levers and maybe a makeshift crane.

"Come on you," the girl sighed, taking her eyes off their 'uncle' for a moment and doing the best job she could to get her brothers collar straight and to pat down his hair. "First chance we get you're gonna to shave off that stubble and have a bath. We're going to see mom! What'll she think if she sees you in a mess like this…?"

"Stop it!" Quayle slapped her hands away and stepped back. "I'm not a child you know…"

"Alright… I was just… reminding you, okay?"

"Right," he tucked his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders sulkingly. "I suppose you'll want to say goodbye to that troglodyte you think is your boyfriend?"

"Klint always tries to be nice to you," Fay said shaking her head, "Why do you always talk like hate him so much? Sometimes you sound like you hate me too…"

"What are talking about?" He snorted as if she'd said something unbelievably stupid. "I don't hate him… or you… I just…" his voice trailed off as his thoughts did likewise. "Remember we used to think there was a monster living in that pond? We used to hide in the shed so we could keep an eye on it."

"I guess," Fay sighed, "Didn't it just turn out to be an old boot or something?"

"Yeah… it was pretty funny," he grinned and lifted himself into the back of the caravan after his books.

"Sure," Fay whispered sadly to herself. "For something that happened ten years ago…"

She herself went to the front of the vehicle, having only brought with her a small bag and her lute, and lifted herself into a seat next to Sarevok, who had already taken the reins. She had made it clear that she neither liked him or trusted him, and it was for those reasons she wanted to be close to him.

"How do you get this thing to move?" He asked, having finally conceded that he might need a little help.

"Excuse me?" Fay seemed disorientated at having being suddenly snapped into the present from elsewhere. "Oh… there's a special way of starting it. Mother used to remember it by saying 'What lightens when it's dry and turns green when it's wet?'"

"I have neither the time nor the patience for riddles, girl," Sarevok snarled. He was not himself inexperienced when it came to matters of magic and alchemy, but he couldn't immediately think of any substance that turned green when you poured liquid on it.

"No need to start getting grumpy in your old age… the answers copper," Fay sighed. She was just as eager to get this journey over with as he was. "The gnomes use it in these special lamps they make, because it carries electricity really well or something. And it turns green when you melt it," she explained. She pulled a small bag and removed a piece of string, which was tied to a copper ring. The ring she placed on the stick Sarevok had noticed earlier, and finally the wheels started to roll.

The 'old' man shook his head. He was an intelligent person, or so he thought. But really, what was the point of language if people kept twisting the meaning of words all the time. But dwelling on it might just make him grumpy.

"So, where is my mother anyway?" Fay asked as they pulled away from the house.

"No doubt enjoying her self far more than I am."

--

It had happened so fast… there was a flash, some confused shouting, and then scar face found himself lying on back staring up at the elven girl who had been a helpless captive just a moment ago.

"I tried to warn you," Aerie said, her cold blue eyes burning into him. "You should have listened," she stood straight and tall, holding a wand in her left hand which pointed at him menacingly.

"P-please…" he started to beg, but the witch cut him off.

"How many people have you heard plead for their lives? Have you ever spared any of them?"

"I-I…"

"Tell me why I should spare you!" The elf demanded. However it was soon obvious that no answer was forthcoming, leaving Aerie not knowing what to do. She knew what Jaheira and Keldorn and the others will have told her to do; if she didn't kill this thug now then he might come after her again in the future, but stronger this time. And who knew how many other victims he would claim between now and then. Sighing, she reached a decision. Closing her eyes, she said, "get out of here." Regardless of the probabilities involved, she couldn't execute someone for what they might do in the future. She was really no executioner at all. "Go… before I change my mind."

Shocked at first, the scar face soon found his feet and was stumbling and scurrying away from her. There was a small chance he might learn something from the experience, but it was very remote. Still a chance was a chance however small.

With the excitement of battle fading almost as quickly as it had come over her, Aerie felt a twinge by the side of her head and took a piece of her own cloak to wipe away the remaining blood. The same contingency that had thrown off her attackers had also healed her wounds. Quayle, the old Quayle, who himself had been an accomplished explorer and adventurer before retiring to his life in the Circus, had taught her to always prepare such spells especially if she was travelling alone… as she had been for a long time now. Her foot touched something small which chinked; she had almost forgotten the reason she had come this way in the first place.

The boy, she found, was still stood on top of the barrel as he had been, frozen there with fearfully wide eyes. The rest of the thieves where still in the positions they had been thrown; one was writhing and groaning a little; all of them would live to thieve another day if they so choose. Despite all the clamour there was, as was typical, absolutely no sign of the Guard and even with all her magic Aerie couldn't possibly have dragged all the thieves barely conscious forms to the prison. Her attention was fixed on the boy.

She should have been angry; he'd taken advantage of her compassion to lure her into a trap and who knew how many other travellers he'd done the same to. But to see him there in his torn and filthy rags, so afraid… and with so many bruises on his body…

"Do they hurt you?" She asked gently. But he remained frozen, too afraid to speak… it was unclear whether he was afraid of her or of the price he might pay for how this excursion had ended. With a slight, friendly smile, Aerie took his hand and placed the purse there. "You should buy some clean clothes and… something to eat. There's a temple to Ilmatir not far from here… they'll be able to look after you and protect you…" they boy snatched the purse and ran. This time Aerie didn't go after him.

Instead she returned to where the horse was still waiting patiently. Tired from travelling and from the recent skirmish, she almost collapsed when she reached the creature and had to hold on to the reins for support.

"Oh… Loomi…" Resting her head against that of the animal, she felt like she might just fall asleep in this position. She knew she would have to sleep soon anyway; she wasn't capable of helping anyone if she was exhausted. Loomi, or Cloud as his name would have been in common, seemed like he would be quite happy to stand there all night if that was his owners wish.

As an Avariel, Aerie's body was designed for flight. No doubt a lot of magical elements were involved in getting them off the ground, but she did have bones that were hollow like a bird's and overall she weighed only half what a human female the same size as her would weigh. Wingless and grounded as she was though, her lightweight construction offered few advantages. Oh, she wasn't quite as fragile as some people imagined her to be; her skeleton had to resist twisting and buffeting and a multitude of other stresses associated with flight. And one advantage she did have was that she was a very fast rider; Loomi could run freely since he barely noticed her weight when it was on his back. Aerie did like to travel fast quite often, and she was confident that once her business in Athkatla was done she would be able to reach the Keep ahead of Sarevok.

It was Nalia De'Arnise who had first taught her how to ride properly. Aerie had taken care of horses in the Circus, but never been given a chance to actually ride them. The avariel hadn't been planning on going back to the Keep for a while yet; she knew that the Council of Six had chosen Nalia De'Arnise to preside over some talks with the elves of Suldanessellar. Aerie didn't get on well with the elves of Suldanessellar.

Like most exploring and adventuring types Aerie was, to say the least, highly suspicious of politics and of political boundaries. Not that she didn't have political views; she had spoken before of the Avariel and their isolationism. How she felt it was suffocating her race and creating a society that was stagnant and stale. It was only as an adult with a little experience under that she had been able to express her views, but in truth even as a child she often found her self gazing at the world rolling away from her mountain and thinking that it wasn't enough just to watch from a distance; she needed to be able feel and touch it…

But having been separated from her people so long she supposed she had been hoping to find some sort of kinship when she'd first arrived in Suldanessellar all those years ago; instead she found that her experiences had changed her so much that she didn't understand how the elven mind worked at all. They regarded her and her friends with suspicion from the moment they arrived to the day they left; even though the party had saved them from destruction at the hands of the sorcerer Irenicus; and worse, it was the elves in Suldanessellar and their callous disregard for what happened in the world outside their 'safe' little home that had created Irenicus and allowed him to cause so much pain and destruction and death in the first place… of course, to say so to Queen Ellesime's face probably wasn't the wisest thing Aerie had ever done even though at the time she'd felt good about it.

The problem was that Aerie was an Avariel elf who had lived most her life amongst humans and prayed to a gnomish god. One might imagine that embracing so many cultures would make it easy for her to settle anywhere. Instead though, it made her strange to everyone and so many things about the world were still strange to her. At least she knew she wasn't destined for a career in politics.

Nalia De'Arnise was though; she'd been getting gradually more involved in politics since the day the two of them met. So much so that Nalia no longer practiced magic much anymore, which Aerie found… regrettable. She missed the days when the three of them, she and Nalia and Imoen, would stay up night to study new spells together. And there would fun and cookies… But Nalia wanted to change the world and make it better, and unfortunately that couldn't be done with magic. You could try, probably, but the greater the magic the greater the likelihood that it will go quite disastrously wrong. The Noblewoman was an important person now, with the Council granting her more and more responsibility. She could never go anywhere with out a dozen guards surrounding her.

Aerie's own ambitions were not so grand; she was more than happy to help with the battle against slavery, which was still prevalent in Amn, whenever she could. As part of the battle, since it was a political as much as a physical battle, Nalia had gotten Aerie to give a testimony in front of the Council (whose faces of course were concealed), recounting her capture by slavers and the conditions she'd witnessed in the compounds… the wailing, the torture, the corpses of so many who had proved too weak being carried away and buried with the rest, their names and everything about who they were forgotten. People of all races united by their confusion and fear and, in the end, their anonymity. The Avariel didn't know what good it would do.

Since few people in Amn knew what she really looked like – the Aerie bards had written about was supposed to be six foot tall with bronze flesh and breasts a flock of birds could nest in, not this short, pale and frail looking girl – the Avariel had managed to remain blissfully unaware of the fact that her name and her reputation particularly amongst the common folk made her as powerful a tool politically as she was magically.

Besides, all Aerie wanted out of life was to travel, to learn, and to experience as much of the world as possible. Baervar commanded that she seek out forgotten places hidden in the forests, which was good too. And if she could use the knowledge and skills she had acquired to help people, then that was more than good. She had a family too; the road was far too dangerous for them, but she had provided her children with a safe home, or so she'd thought until now. Until now, she'd thought that all things considered this new life she had was pretty good. She not forgotten all she had lost; her home, her parents and wings and her love… but she knew that Cassidy would have wanted her to carry on.

Which, incidentally, was something she had to be doing now, so she tore herself away from Loomi's warmth and forced herself to wake up. At about the same time she noticed a familiar change in the air. Which didn't surprise her at all; she knew they'd been watching her from the moment she'd arrived in the city. They watched her pretty much all the time; sometimes she thought about pulling faces at them, but… possibly it would have been fun if Imoen was with her.

A short distance away the universe was altered slightly, and where there had once only been air there now stood a figure wearing an all too familiar grey robe.

"I-I do have license," Aerie yawned, "I'm sure it's my Bag of Holding somehwhere…"

"You probably don't remember me do you?" The robed figure said. The robes made it almost impossible to tell, but now Aerie knew the figure was definitely female. But as for it being someone she remembered…

"I remember you," the figure went on, "You were the really nice one, but you were very quiet. The others were all big and strong and so confident that they were full of themselves… you weren't so sure, but you were brave and you tried your best no matter what. I liked you the best… you would smile whenever anyone talked to you and say nice things, but when no one was looking you would stare at the sky and be so sad… you were my Father's favourite as well. He certainly talked more to you than he did to either of us."

"Vesper?" It was a guess really, but it seemed like the best one.

"Hello Aerie," the wizard pulled back the cowl. She had changed her hair since Aerie last saw her; it was short, dark and curly. And she'd grown a foot or so, so that she was the same height as the elf now, but…

"Of course I remember you," the Avariel smiled warmly, gently hugging the wizards shoulders, "I'm an elf… to me, it wasn't very long ago. You've become so pretty," the elf said honestly, "but… I don't think those robes do much flatter you."

"Well… father wanted us to grow up big and strong, but I never did. Magic seemed like the best thing, although I'm sure he was disappointed."

"Don't be silly," Aerie chided, "Your father will have wanted whatever was best for you." The Avariel really couldn't remember much about her own father… he was a philosopher who spent his days debating in the auditorium. Uncle Quayle had been the closest thing she remembered really well; he'd taken care of her when she was sick and taught her magic.

But Quayle had loved the circus; he always trying to find new ways to 'wow' the audience and put smiles on everyone's faces. To Aerie however, the circus wasn't a place of happiness. It was a place of pain and loss. As her powers grew she became increasingly restless; she studied hard because her goal was to get out. But Quayle was an old man with no family of his own to pass his legacy on to, and Aerie owed him so much that she could never say to him that she wanted to leave it all behind. It turned out he knew anyway, and when the time came he'd had the wisdom to let her go so she could find her own path.

"I'm sure could never be disappointed in you," the Avariel smiled. Of course, if either of her own children ever wanted to join the Cowled Wizards she would definitely be having words with them.

"You haven't changed at all in all these years, have you?" Vesper smiled back. "Still saying nice things… but I know what you're really thinking, and I understand. But really, the organization is changing a lot now. After Irenicus it had to start changing… they desperately needed replacements but, oddly, people weren't so willing to join. Now though you get lot's of good benefits… they pay if you need a healer, your family's looked after if anything happens, you get paid holidays… it's pretty good."

"Okay…"

"I'm sorry… I don't mean to go on like that," the human wizard looked to and fro nervously. "You… you're here to help find Leona and the others, right?"

"I'm going to try my best."

"Of course," Vesper smiled, apparently feeling reassured. "I brought some things that might help… it wasn't easy getting them out of the halls," stepping back, she revealed that under her robes had been a set of hastily bound together books. "These are logs of all the magical activity within the city right back to the night Sir Delryn's daughter was taken… we might be able to find some clue, somewhere. I want to try my best to find my sister, if that's alright…"

"Of course it is… I'm sure this will help," Aerie shivered and pulled her cloak around herself. The night was getting a little chilly. "We'd seem an odd pair looking through this out here though… with hardly any light at all. I think… since Moira was the first to disappear, we should go to visit Anomen."

"Thank you," Vesper jumped and hugged the Elf, "To think, little old me will be helping out number seven…"

"Um… number seven?"

"You didn't know? We keep these tables now of who the best and most powerful magic users around are, so we know who to keep an eye on. You're ranked at number seven."

"Only number seven?"

"Out of hundreds… you're not developing an ego are you?"

"No… i-it's just," Aerie flushed slightly, "Um… who is number six?"

"Queen Ellesime I think."

"Oh," Aerie said as if it was just an interesting little fact she'd just learnt. In truth, it actually irked her just slightly. Even though she'd just found out about being number seven, she'd still worked very hard to get there. All Ellesime did was sit on her throne all day making how a mess of how she led her people… "I-I guess it doesn't matter, really. Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

Children of the Gate

**Children of the Gate**

**Part Three**

"Ahh… Miss Aerie!" A young stable lad beamed as the avariel, Vesper and Loomi approached the Delryn estate. The dirt streets of Athkatla's poorer districts had been left behind and the horses hoaves clip-clapped on stone paving. "How long's it been?"

"Almost three years since I was here last," Aerie smiled back. "I'm impressed you remember me, Jovanny."

"You're impressed?!" The stable boy (who was probably actually quite a few years older than Aerie's son), laughed jovially. "I should think you're the only guest we ever have who actually remembers my name. Even Sir forgets it sometimes… course, he's had other things on his mind of late…" jovial Jove suddenly started to trail off.

"Is Anomen here?"

"Yeah… he shut himself in the study as soon as… as it happened. Only comes out when he has to deal with life's little necessities. I wouldn't go in there if I were you Miss."

"Why not?" Vesper enquired; she had realised already that it was best to leave her cowl down. The cowls were good when there were enough wizards around for them to look intimidating, but under most other circumstances people found it hard to trust or confide in someone who kept their face hidden.

"I'm sorry Miss… you are?"

"Vesper… Vesper Firecam…"

"Firecam? Your father was Sir Keldorn? I hear he was a legend in the Order."

"I suppose so," the wizard shrugged nonchalantly. Beside her Aerie frowned; to her, Keldorn had been a good friend and teacher. She wasn't sure how much of this disrespect for him she could take, even from his own daughter. She supposed she should just think it sad that Vesper still harboured such bitterness after all this time. "Why wouldn't we want to go into the study?"

"He's just never been the same since Lady Danielle passed away… And then young Moira… well, it's pushed him over the edge. We thought we'd just have to wait for the kidnappers to make their demands, but no demands came, see? He's just been sat in there with only the bottle for company."

"Isn't the Order helping?" Aerie asked, her mouth hanging slightly open. She couldn't believe Anomen would just be sat around at a time like this… not the man she knew.

"Hmph… show them an enemy to fight and they are your boys sure enough. But your typical Paladin hasn't a very enquiring mind, so someone else has gotta find out where the enemies are… until then, all they can do is sit around polishing their armour."

"Sounds like we may have wasted a trip," Vesper sighed.

"I want to talk to him," Aerie insisted regardless. She had grown a lot since leaving the confines of the circus behind. She no longer felt like an inferior being every place she went; she could order drinks in a tavern even when it was busy and if the barman tried to short change her she could say so without feeling like she was making a fuss over nothing (and then being interrogated by her companions later about what had happened to the rest of the money). But, this was a matter that clearly concerned all of them… whoever their enemy was, she shouldn't be the one to face it alone. The people who had all been her friends and mentors should be there, instructing her, as it had always been. "Anomen… Anomen will come around. He has to… Besides," she straightened her neck, "we still need to learn everything we can about Moira's disappearance. Any clue might help us to find her and the others…"

"We've already had young Sergeant Aegisfield and some guards look all around the place," Jovanny explained, "I'm afraid there was really nothing we had to tell… the maid put young Moira to bed, then we she went to check on her an hour later the poor girl had simply vanished. Nothing in the room disturbed, window shut from the inside… just simply vanished…"

"Magic must have been involved," Vesper concluded, even though everyone else thought it quite obvious, "some teleportation spell… but Leona vanished from the Orders own barracks, and they're sealed against such spells…"

"A magic barrier is like a net, and any net is made up of a lot of holes," the Avariel noted.

"I know… but teleportation is still very tricky unless you know exactly where you're going. The Cowled Wizards have our own net spread across the streets of Athkatla… even then, we're often off by a little bit when we teleport someplace. The point is you can't just guess, can you? If you teleport into a small room from a long way away you'll most likely end up buried halfway inside the ground or a wall."

"Huh?" Jovanny was still standing there, just gawping at them.

"When you teleport you need to be able to see exactly where you're going," Aerie endeavoured to explain, "otherwise it's like… like trying to guide a ship through a reef under the densest mist. Unless there's some kind of beacon you can follow, chances are you'll run aground."

"Huh?"

"I… can't make it any simpler than that," the blonde said apologetically.

"Well… it sounds like you two know what to look for anyway…"

"Even if they did manage to get something inside the house to act like a beacon, they'll have most probably taken it with them when they teleported away again," Vesper said grimly.

"Was Moira given anything before she was taken?" Aerie pressed on, "the you remember seeing her with something new she'd acquired? It could be just about anything…"

"Sorry Miss," Jovanny shook his head, "You'd better be asking the maid about that. She always looks after the girl… why don't you go inside while I take care of your horse and your things?"

"It's okay… I can…"

"Now Miss Aerie, we went over this last time you were here as I recall. It's our job to pamper you… if you don't let us do it we don't earn our pay, and then we could end up being turned out into the streets. I'm sure you wouldn't want that now, would you?"

"N-no," Aerie smiled and relinquished the reins. She wasn't at all used to being pampered and waited on. But, Jovanny's logic was flawless. She supposed she would just have to endure it for now.

"It's a fine animal you have," Jove patted the grey horse.

"His names Loomi," Aerie explained, "Imoen gave him to me and said he was special. Please take good care of him, because he is, to me…"

"You've nothing to worry about Miss Aerie… I'll see he's made very comfortable. He'll have the best hay in all of Amn," Loomi seemed to turn his head as if intrigued by what Jovanny had just said.

"Sometimes I think he understands every word we say… heh, I suppose lot's of people are like that with their pets."

"Right you are Miss… I-I…" Loomi wasn't waiting around any longer; the prospect of fine hay was too much and with a snort started dragging the stable lad towards the stables.

--

"Miss Aerie!" The Delryn family maid beamed and embraced the Avariel, who had never realised just how popular she really was. "I am so glad you're here… so very glad indeed."

The Delryn estate was impeccably well kept these days. When it had just been Anomen's father living here the walls had cracked, the garden overgrown… now you could see your reflection on every polished stone surface. Which actually gave Aerie a bit of a headache.

"It's good to see you too, Eunice," Aerie warmly returned the greeting.

"Oh… but you look so tired. You must come in, eat, drink and then rest. Sit down in here and I will prepare everything for you…"

"I thank you… but, I'd like to speak to Anomen first, please."

"He," Eunice started to tug at her apron whilst furtively shuffling her feet, "He said he didn't want to have any vistors."

"He'll see us won't he?" The Cowled Wizard said, "It's about Moira and the others."

"Vesper Firecam," Aerie introduced the wizard to the maid.

"Well, I won't try to stop you if you want to go in there," the maid explained, "But be very careful Miss Aerie! I went in there just a little while ago to ask if he wanted supper, and he threw a bookcase at me!"

"How big a bookcase?" Vesper raised an eyebrow.

"All of Haer'Dalis' poems were on it."

"That's a big bookcase… I read one of his poems once. It was in five volumes. Didn't like it much though; the words 'up, own, head, backside, his' all sprang to mind as I was reading it."

"I-I, er… I was in love with him, once," Aerie admitted bashfully.

"Oh… oh Aerie, I'm so sorry. What happened? Was it a lucky escape?"

"He's a doomguard," the avariel sighed, "I realised he could never love any one person for very long… he doesn't believe anything is meant to last. He believes it so much that, consciously or not, he'll do everything he can to hasten the end of things..."

"But not his damn poetry, apparently. It definitely was a lucky escape if you ask me."

"At least you've good taste in literature," Aerie chuckled, "although I see even more reason to be worried about Anomen's sanity. Eunice, why don't you show Vesper around?"

"Aye, Miss."

And as the maid did that, Aerie took a deep breath as she tried to brace herself for the worst. She'd seen Anomen drunk before; at first, the sight of someone she considered a friend suddenly behaving so aggressively towards her was so deeply shocking that she couldn't react to it. But it wasn't going like that today; if he started being violent she would have to hurt him. It would be regrettable but she wasn't going to let herself be used like a pillow for others to let all their frustrations out on.

The door to the study was locked from within, so she knocked. Seconds later, she heard a loud thud, as if something big had fallen violently to the floor.

"I can't get up," a muffled voice slurred, "Come back when I'm sober…"

By the sounds of it, that might of meant waiting a very long time. Aerie didn't have much, so she placed her hand over the lock and muttered a short cantrip. When the door swung open, the avariel almost vomited as the stench of alcohol completely overwhelmed her delicate elven senses.

"A-anomen?" She looked around and found him lying face down behind his desk. "Anomen… how could you do this to yourself… at a time like this…" She had to beseech Baervar for strength in order to help the knight into his chair; he was far too heavy for her to lift by herself.

"Aerie?" He slowly blinked into life. "What… what time is it?"

"Late," The blonde let out a deep breath. Until Jan's Contrabulous Continuum Meters were installed everywhere, most people still had to rely on sun dials for the time which were rather useless when there was no sun to dial. All else aside though, Anomen still looked much like she'd always remembered, with his blue eyes and black hair and beard. A little scuffed and greyed around the edges maybe; and his chest used to stick further out in front of him than his belly, and now his belly stuck out firther than his chest. But he was still very strong. Were she not prepared, he could snap a girl like her like a twig if he so choose to. "Anomen… why are you doing this?" She asked again softly as she sat down opposite him.

"Why?" Anomen pushed back his dishevelled hair and started to laugh malignantly. "What else can I do, elf? I'm starting to grow old Aerie, and I've already lost everything that ever really mattered… I don't suppose there's any chance you can understand what that's like."

"You think I don't know what it's like to lose things?"

"To grow old… to start looking back on your life and realise just how much time you've wasted and how little of it remains. That it's already far too late…"

Aerie bowed her head, having to concede that point. She looked the same now as she did twenty years ago, and in a hundred years the elf would still be the same. With magic flowing through her body as much as it did she could easily live well over a thousand years before showing any sign of age. But her friends and all the people she cared for… even her own children…

"You and Cassidy," Anomen murmered. One important aspect of drunken conversation difficult to master when you were sober was that the previous topic didn't always relate in any way at all to the next one. Nor did the previous sentence for that matter. "That always surprised me… I was sure he'd end up with that drow woman…"

The avariel didn't dispute that point either; frankly she was as surprised as everyone. When she set her heart on something she was always determined to see it through to the bitter end no matter what; but the truth she had never rated herself very highly, especially compared to what Cassidy's other choices had been.

"What…what was her name again?" Anomen continued to murmer.

"Viconia," Aerie recalled vividly, for to an elf twenty years wasn't such a long time. Viconia was the first drow she'd ever actually met; all she'd had to go on before then were the stories she'd been brought up on of the dark elves wicked ways and foul deeds. She met other drow as well on her journeys, such as Solaufein, who successfully challenged her belief that they were all irredeemably evil creatures. But Viconia unfortunately was exactly what most people expected drow to be like; vain, selfish, manipulative and cruel. Exceedingly cruel really; almost as if she wanted everyone to hate her. Unfortunately, it seemed lots of men actually enjoyed being constantly told they were what came out of a pigs backside. It was one of those very strange things Aerie would never be able to understand.

She didn't know if Viconia was still around anywhere; they weren't exactly friends. They were always on the verge of physically attacking one another, until one day they did and almost killed each other. If it had been a story, then it's possible they might have become friends after the big long punch up. That didn't happen. They did learn to respect each other; Viconia had learnt first hand that Aerie was far from weak or helpless, and so they arrived at a truce of sorts. After the Throne Wars were over they had no reason to ever see each other again, and they didn't.

"Viconia," Anomen repeated, "You know, when I first laid my eyes on her I was prepared to instantly forget everything I'd ever been taught about the drow… just because her breasts were practically bursting out of her leather suit. That's rather pathetic really, isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes it is," Aerie agreed wholeheartedly. Obviously, Solaufein had been quite handsome, but that hadn't been what had convinced her. Not at all.

"I know it is," Anomen continued to pour himself mug after mug, "Do you remember what the first words you said to Cassidy were?"

"'Who are you?'"

"Just after that…"

"Um… I think it was 'Whoever you are, you should flee this place at once'."

"Yes… that was it. All around you there were people scared and panicking… but you were the only one keeping your head about you and doing what you could to help. We knew there was more to this than met the eye… and I said to everyone, I said 'There's more to this girl than meets the eye,' I said… did I say that?"

"Apparently," Aerie sighed. At least it seemed she didn't have to worry about Anomen attacking her tonight. He was well passed any stages of drunkenness where he still enough co-ordination to mount an assault on anything. All he could do was babble incoherently.

"I won't ask you why you never settled with your family… I know the answer to that. I've had a lot of young squires enter the order I thought had potential, only to see them crack up under pressure. But you Aerie… you thrive under pressure…"

"I don't understand…"

"But I do… I understand completely. At the time Danielle died, the order took me away from the field. Put me in charge of processing new recruits… and because of that, these pas six years, there's been far too much time for me to think… too much time to dwell. And I've cracked Aerie… I've cracked. Tell me, what does it feel like when you fight?"

"I…"

"Tell me!" Anomen suddenly raised his volume.

"Alright," Aerie sighed. She thought back to the encounter she'd had earlier with the thugs. "I feel… angry. And afraid."

"And?"

"And… I… I feel my heart beat. A-and I feel the blood racing through my veins. I feel pain and despair… and exhilaration. I know I might die, but it doesn't matter, because…"

"Because it's the only time in your life you know you're alive."

"Yes…" Aerie admitted. She wasn't at all sure how she should feel about it though. And in truth she'd lost as many battles as she'd won; but even then, you could only be afraid for your life when you were alive.

"It's like the lotus… the more you take the more you need. Until you can't find any way to live without it. I want to fight, Aerie… but I can't anymore."

"Of course you can… Anomen, you're a knight of the Order…"

"A title… I used to think it meant everything. But it means nothing… look at me… I'm completely useless… I couldn't tell which end of a sword is the pointy end right now," the two sat in silence for a moment, the flickering of the candlelight the only movement in the room.

"Damnit!" Aerie jumped as Anomen suddenly screamed and threw his bottle against the wall, showering shards all across the study. The knights eyes started to fill with tears. "She's only a child Aerie… just eight years old… but I don't know what to do. She has to come back, but I don't… I don't know what…"

"You just need to rest now," Aerie spoke softly. "You need to sleep."

"Sleep? How can I sleep? I can't…"

"Sleep…" The avariels voice to echo again and again as her finger touched his forehead. Anomen's eyes slowly blinked shut.

Unfortunately Aerie couldn't promise she definitely would bring Moira back. It wasn't her way to make promises she wasn't sure she could keep, and the fact was no one knew what had become of the children although she remained hopeful that if someone had simply intended to kill them, they wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of teleporting them away.

As for Anomen… it would definitely be a while before he would be fit enough to be of any help.

"What's wrong?" Vesper asked as soon as the elf had left the study.

"It's nothing," Aerie told her, and of course that was a lie. Anomen said a lot of things that troubled her; they weren't new though. It had long disturbed her, the knowledge that her friends and even her own children would all grow old before her. She tried not to dwell, but hearing someone else voice her concerns made them seem more substantial. Her battle lust; well, in truth that was something she'd realised a long time ago and accepted. "Anomen's resting now."

"Well… I didn't find anything. Eunice says Moira was getting new things all the time."

"And you didn't notice anything else missing?"

"I'm afraid not Miss," the maid shook her head sadly, "But right now, you should be resting as well I think. I can see you're exhausted."

"We still have the Cowled Wizards records to go through," Vesper said.

"It can wait until morning," Eunice instructed, "I know you're both eager to help, but you'll be able to help more with fresh minds and bodies. Now come along both of you."

"Yes ma'am," Aerie smiled gently. Before following the house maid, she closed her eyes for a moment.

Fay and Quayle… she could now that they had left Nashkell and that Sarevok was with them. They were safe… well, apart from the fact that Sarevok was with them. But he'd been the only one close, and she trusted he would keep his word at least. What he did after that hopefully wouldn't concern her.


	4. Chapter 4

Children of the Gate

**Children of the Gate**

**Part Four**

"What?" Fay demanded.

"What?" Sarevok answered, bemused.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" The copper haired girl sighed. "If you're looking for wings then forget about it. Half-Avariel children don't inherit any of that stuff."

"This I already knew, and I was not looking at you. It was either your imagination or wishful thinking… either way, I have no interest in it."

"Well, this is going to be a fun trip," Fay muttered through the corner of her mouth. Immediately afterwards the caravan jumped over yet another bump in the road. Sarevok sneered and then the uneasy silence returned. Fay was his niece as far as biology was concerned, but other than that they really knew nothing about each other and both had assumed that the other wasn't the type of person they would find interesting.

Sarevok had known Fay's father quite well; after all, Cassidy had killed him twice. Sarevok's brother had been a superb fighter. Not as strong as himself, but then he didn't get into brawls. Cassidy had been smart; he knew how to spot a weakness and exploit it. Sarevok's weakness had been the same as most villains; over confident and arrogant. A man like that was easy to trap because he believed nothing could hurt him; and then of course he got a bitter taste of reality. He may have had the blood of a God but he was still just a man.

Now Sarevok was a man of fifty and stripped of all Bhaal's essence. He was no God; he wasn't even a Duke. He spent his days wandering and fighting and most nights in the bed of a prostitute because he had nothing else to do. Even if other paths were still open to him, it was too late to begin all over again. He knew that whatever happened to him from now on, one fact was certain; he would not be missed.

Anyway, Fay, he'd already decided, had far more in common with her mother than with father's side of the family. The way she could be so very afraid, but it was overruled by sheer will and determination was very much Aerie. Unfortunately Fay wasn't as quiet as Aerie; when he'd travelled with their mother he hardly noticed her most of the time. The Avariel rarely spoke unless spoken to first; it wasn't that she was the least bit aloof, it was just that she didn't draw much attention to herself. In battle was a different story; you couldn't fail to notice Aerie then. If people were swords then Aerie would have been a katana; finely made with a soft and delicate edge, yet in the hands of a skilled user had the power to cut through almost anything with ease. He'd rather fancied himself as a two-edged claymore, with all it's airs of respectability on one side and on the other it's brute strength and savagery.

But Fay, unlike her mother, was a consummate noise maker. Even now, as his eyes were straining to see the unlit road at night, she was plucking repeatedly at her lute. For some reason, he found this aggravating.

"Do you actually know how to play that thing, or do you intend to just make noise all night?" He snapped.

"You want a song?" Fay raised an eyebrow.

"If you must carry that thing with you, then yes. Otherwise, I will through it into the ditch," of course, if he didn't like the song he would do that anyway. Just a pity he couldn't do the same to her.

"Song then… hmm…" she mulled it over for a moment. "Okay… I got it…

_You can find joy, in some kind of toy,_

_Or in a game of Backgammon._

_But it's not for me, I just want to be,_

_With my pet tortoise Larry._

_He'd plod along, for all day long,_

_He never got where he was going._

_For every day, placed back in the hay,_

_O my pet tortoise Larry. _

_And then one day, a wicked boy did say,_

_'Who can fly in my kite?'_

_And then he saw, by his sister's door,_

_O my pet tortoise Larry._

_Put in a tent, and up he went,_

_But tortoise wasn't meant for flying._

_Down he did fall, guts spread on the wall,_

_And the sister was crying._

_And the boy, he too felt no joy,_

_He said 'wingspan should be wider'._

_I punched him out, then did scream and shout,_

_For my pet tortoise Larry._

_O the times we had, they made me glad,_

_I will not forget you._

_You were so great, though you could not levitate,_

_O my pet tortoise Larry._

You know what that songs about?" Fay asked now that she'd finished, a hint of a tear in her eye.

"Your pet tortoise Larry?" Sarevok hazarded a guess. He now knew he should have kept his mouth shut... spending time with his family was torture. No, actually it worse than that; he could handle being tortured for information and the like. This was unadulterated cruelty that even he didn't deserve.

"Yeah, well, they say you should write about things you know. I know about farms and villages and about a hundred cruel and stupid things my brother has done to me. He's never cared about me at all. I think if I showed up dead one day the first thing he'd do would be to fetch a notebook so he could start cataloguing my internal organs."

"Then why do you protect him?"

"What do you mean? I've got to look after him… he's my brother."

"He does nothing for you, yet you risk your life for him?"

"Well, I suppose when you think about it logically it doesn't make a whole lot of sense…"

"No. It does not."

"But… we're a family. What am I supposed to do?"

"I had my entire foster family killed, along with my true siblings. Your father, even after he resurrected me, I would still have killed him myself if I thought I had anything to gain by it."

"Right," Fay's eyes widened slightly, "I suppose you'd have killed Aunt Imoen as well if you could gain by it…"

"No. I'd have killed her simply because I don't like her. But I needed your father alive, and he would have minded if I had."

"Of course," Fay now started to grin, "you enjoy reminding people of how bad you are don't you? Or rather, how bad you were. But the fact is you won't do anything to hurt us because you're afraid of what my mother would do to you."

"I don't particularly need the problems she would cause," Sarevok admitted, "But don't imagine for one second that I fear anybody, least of all her. The Avariel witch is skilled and powerful, yes, but she lacks ruthlessness. That's why she's only number seven."

"Seven? What's that?"

"It matters not. What does matter is that your mother is not here… think very carefully before putting your faith in her to the test."

Of course, Sarevok did realise that the more he threatened and failed to act, the bolder she was likely to become, which was why he'd refrained from any evil glares or stares during the last sentence. He would let her think seriously about what he'd said; in the mean time he had given his word. Once he'd dropped them at the castle he'd never need to see them again anyway. Nalia certainly wouldn't let him hang around; it wouldn't do her political ambitions any good at all to be seen consorting with the likes of him. So, he intended to keep his word and then not have anything to do with any of his old comrades ever again. If Fay and Quayle insisted though, then it could be quite interesting for all of them to find out exactly where his line was.

"She's never here," Fay said quietly after a moments silence between the two, "well, that's not true… she's here sometimes. Usually she disappears for months at a time then comes home for a few days."

"So? You're old enough to take care of yourselves aren't you?"

"That's not the point… it's been like this almost as long as I can remember. And, you know, when a girl reaches a certain age things… start happening. Other's have their mothers to explain and help them… I had to ask the priest about it. I'd never seen such a horrified look on a Helmite's face before; dragons and evil sorcerers they can take on any day, but hearing about woman's problems has them running behind cover."

"That I have no knowledge of; but, I do understand that when you have power, as your mother does, others will always want to challenge you for it. Perhaps the reason she isn't here is because she does not wish to have every old enemy or young adventurer trying to make a name knocking on your door and placing your lives in jeopardy?"

"Yeah… having us around must be damned inconvenient for her," she muttered bitterly. Sarevok slightly shook his head; he didn't know why he'd bothered to say all that. If Fay wanted to hold a grudge against Aerie then why should he care? He didn't. He was just entertaining her complaints because he had little else to do right now. That was about to change though.

The vehicle jumped over another rock carelessly left in the middle of the road; for a moment there was the sound of wood grinding and cracking and then the whole caravan lurched to one side. Sarevok instantly pulled on the reins to bring the two horses pulling them to a halt; they were only ploughing the road at this point.

"What the hell… _acch!_" Quayle scrambled out the back, but forgot there were no steps there and fell face first into the road. As Fay helped him up, their uncle inspected the damage. One of the wheels on the right side had come loose and rolled away into the ditch.

"Things not been moved in years… bits have probably rotted," Fay observed.

Sarevok said nothing; in hindsight, he should have inspected the vehicle more thoroughly before setting off. Maybe it was the hind cataracts he was getting… in any case he needed to lift it up in order to carry out repairs, but he doubted his niece and nephew would be of much assistance. But he had no intention of being stranded out here with them.

"What'll we do?" Fay asked.

"We need something to place under it while I reattach the wheel," Sarevok answered. Quayle's chest he realised should be able to take the weight for a short time; so it would turn out to be useful after all. He immediately reached in and pulled it out.

"Where are we?" Fay asked, her eyes straining to see. A torch attached to caravan illuminated the small area around them, but beyond was pitch black.

"Well, based on the speed we were going and the time… I'd say we just passed the mine a few minutes ago," Quayle said.

"That old hermit, Brage, can't live too far away then."

"Brage?" Sarevok repeated. He couldn't place it, but somehow the name seemed familiar.

"No one's really seen him in years," Fay explained, "He lives out here somewhere, by himself… well, apart from Tamitha. You see her in the village a lot getting food and stuff for them both."

"And she lives with this… Brage? The hermit?"

"Must get pretty lonely out here by your self, so I guess he welcomes the company," Fay shrugged sheepishly.

"She's really creepy, or so I've heard people say," Quayle said, "wears her hood up all the time and never laughs or smiles at anything… so they say."

"Indeed," Sarevok curtly nodded, "whilst the local gossip is fascinating, we do need to get this heap of firewood ready to move. When I lift, the two of you must push that chest underneath it… here. Ready?"

With a fraction of his strength, Sarevok was able to lift the side of the caravan long enough for the two siblings to push the chest under the corner. Thankfully it didn't shatter when he put the vehicle back down. Now he just needed to get the wheel out of the ditch and…

"Er… Uncle?" Fay tugged at his shirt.

"What?" He barked, then he saw it too. A group of men just stepped into the caravans circle of light, all of them wearing chainmail armor. One stood behind the others with crossbow, another next to him was barely holding onto a large and very hungry looking dog.

"Who are they?"

"Whoever they are, I doubt they're here to offer assistance," he said and stepped towards the front of vehicle next to the driver's seat.

"Sarevok Anchev," the apparent leader of the group, the one with the crossbow, said without a hint of respect, "you needn't involve yourself in all this… just hand over those two darling children and we'll let you walk away back to wherever it is you wish to spend your retirement."

_Well, wasn't this ironic_… Sarevok mused to himself.

"You know who I am?" The old warrior enquired. "And yet you dare to insult me?"

"You're not even an old has been… more a never was. Wasn't your grand scheme to take over Baldur's Gate thwarted by the father of the brats you're now charged to protect? You've really fallen a long way haven't you? You going to hand them over?"

"No."

"Heh… to be honest," the man laughed, "I was hoping you'd say th…" he was suddenly cut off by an axe in the chest.

"He talked too much," Sarevok stated. Whilst the rest of the ambushers were still stunned, he pulled his sword out from under the drivers seat. Two men tried to rush him but were easily smashed aside, but he soon found himself locked in combat with another three whilst the one with the dog really struggled now to hold onto the snarling animal.

Whilst that was going on, two of the attackers had crept around behind the caravan. One had already taken hold of Quayle when Fay heard a cry.

"Look out Fay!" A figure leapt out of the bushes, missed its target and crashed into the unrelenting side of the travelling vehicle.

"Klint!" She immediately went to the aid of the very dazed young squire.

"Come on girlie," an ambusher grabber her arm and tried pulling her away. Sarevok was able to push away the attackers on him just long enough to throw another axe from his belt. The would be kidnapper collapsed right next to the strawberry haired half elf.

Fay wasn't out of danger yet though. The dog broke free of its handler and ran straight towards what it believed was the most vulnerable target; the crouching girl dressed all in pink. She caught sight of it and lay frozen to ground with fear as it bounded quickly by Sarevok and the men he was fighting. She instinctively closed her eyes and raised an arm to cover her face as the beast leapt… but she faintly something whistle over her head. The snarls and growls the creature emitted abruptly stopped and were replaced with a high pitched but short lived whine. Fay opened her eyes to see the creature lying on its back with an arrow through it's belly.

The man holding Quayle quickly swung about just in time for the same to happen to him. The latest person to enter the fray was barely visible; some distance behind the caravan, standing in the middle of the road, was female figure shrouded in a black cloak (although if you very closely it was actually just a really dark green, which matched the colour of her eyes).

Sarevok meanwhile had just disposed of the second of the three men he'd been fighting and turned to meet the third; however he was just a little too slow to avoid receiving a slash across his left arm. Had it been twenty years ago he'd finished them all a long time ago; he just wasn't as young as he was.

As the man swung again, Sarevok took several small, quick steps that brought him inside his opponents reach enabling him to grab the wrist of his opponents sword arm, and then to finish him off with an upwards stab. That just left the man who'd brought the dog, who turned and started to run. Sarevok picked up the leaders crossbow, still loaded since it never been fired, and shot the fleeing man in the back.

"Klint," a teary eyed Fay fawned over her fallen sweetheart, "you're so brave…"

"Great… that's all we need isn't it?" Quayle stood a few feet away said sulkily, "The ham-handed fist of Helm showing up to save us…"

"I… I followed," Klint sat up, slowly regaining what senses he had, "I had to make sure you were safe."

"Shush… you've hit your head," Fay patted him, "Try to rest."

"The rest of us got hurt too you know," Quayle said, "That man was choking me…"

"Stop complaining. You're fine," Fay snapped at him.

Sarevok, blood covering most of his arm, strided towards them as he reloaded the crossbow. He pointed it down the road behind the group, to where the figure in the dark green cloak still stood in the shadows.

"Who are you?" He demanded. The female figure stepped slowly into the light. "Show me your face!"

"I am Tamitha," she said, pulling back the hood so that her long raven hair flowed freely. She also had pointed ears, and didn't appear at all threatened by the fact she had a loaded crossbow pointed at her.

"She's gorgeous," Quayle whispered. Although Tamitha had lived in these parts many years few people had ever seen her with her hood down.

"It is not safe to travel around here at night," the elf archer noted.

"We're in a hurry to get across the mountains," Sarevok explained, still eyeing her suspiciously.

"Of course," she nodded, "But your vehicle is damaged. If you wish you can spend the night in our cabin. In the morning I can help you carry out repairs."

"Why should I trust you?"

"For no reason. I was simply offering my help… you don't have to accept it. Although there are a lot of wolves out tonight. I fear it would not be wise for you and your horses to stay out in the open for very long."

"It's alright," Quayle intervened, "Its Tamitha; we told you about her. Everyone in Nashkell knows her."

"Hmph… very well," Sarevok reluctantly lowered the crossbow, seeing that he didn't much choice.

"Who were these men?" Fay asked, finally tearing herself away from the bewildered Klint for a moment. The shock in her own voice was obvious. "Are these the ones who kidnapped all the others?"

"No," Sarevok stated with certainty, "They were just mercenaries."

"How do you know?"

"I know the sort."

"But… w-why are they coming after _us_?"

"Revenge, probably."

"But we haven't done anything!"

"Not you… your parents."

"But then why come after us?!"

"Someone lost a son or daughter to your parents… so naturally the aggrieved seeks to take the same from them."

"And you've no idea who could be responsible?"

"I've killed a lot of sons and daughters… we all did. But don't worry… if it is revenge then the one behind it will reveal them selves in time. After all, what's the point if your victim doesn't know why they're being punished?"

They heard the howling of wolves; worryingly close. No doubt they were being attracted now by the smell of death.

"Hurry," Tamitha said, "Unbind the horses and follow me to the cabin."

"Don't you trust her?" Fay observed the look on her uncle's face as he went about doing exactly as the elf had asked.

"I trust no one," he stated, "However… there is something about her I find… disconcerting."

Maybe it was nothing though; they had just been attacked so naturally he was extremely wary. He resolved to watch the elf carefully; first sign of treachery and he would cut her down the middle.

To be honest though, he was more concerned about the young helmite showing up… if he caught Klint trying to do anything with his niece then he wasn't at all sure what an appropriate response would be, if any. Although a strong urge that cutting down the middle would be necessary, starting at the bottom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Children of the Gate**

**Part Five**

Aerie struggled desperately to suppress the thousand thoughts jostling for position in her mind. But it was no use; even though she was very tired she just couldn't sleep. What she needed at a time like this was a single thing that she could focus on, so that it drowned out the confusion and chaos within her.

Years ago, it was Cassidy. She would lie beside her lover watching him breathe; it calmed her mind and the steady rhythm lulled her to sleep. Other times she would read a book; it didn't matter at all what it was about, she would read anything available. At her home in Nashkel, and stored in her bag of holding, was such a collection of texts that any affluent noble in Amn would envy. Only for Aerie books had a real purpose and weren't just strategically placed around the home to create the impression of sophistication.

But she didn't want to read anything now; her eyes stared up at the ceiling beneath a troubled brow. The location and condition of the children obviously had taken a prominent place in her mind; but she had no facts to go on, only speculation and her overactive imagination creating various suspects and scenarios.

She had thought a little about Viconia DeVir earlier, the priestess of Shar; but even if the drow did hold some grudge against the rest of them, it wouldn't be like her to go after the children. She would go directly after them. Also, it didn't make much sense for her to have waited all this time. She felt she could rule Viconia out right away.

So what about Firkraag, the red dragon? Years ago he'd tried to catch Cassidy with his fiery breath because of something Cassidy's foster father, Gorion, had done to him years before then. This did fit his style somewhat, and twenty years wasn't much time at all for a dragon to plan its revenge… a living dragon anyway. Firkraag was quite dead; Sir Keldorn had even skinned the beast to make a suit of armor from it's scales, and since the battle Firkraag's skull had been moved from his lair in the Windspear Hills to be put on display in the new Museum here in Athkatla; Aerie had been with Nalia De'Arnise when she opened the exhibit.

Still, the Avariel knew she couldn't rule out Firkraag entirely; he was an ancient and powerful creature. He could have deceived them somehow, found some way of cheating death… as could Kangaxx, members of the Twisted Rune, Unseeing Eye, the Shade Lord, Bodhi, Irenicus… she had too many enemies, dead and living. It was frustrating not to have a single clue.

And as well as all that speculation, Anomen troubled her as well. He'd been very drunk when she'd spoken and hadn't made a lot of sense. She still couldn't understand how could let himself get into such a state when he knew his own daughter now needed him more than ever… and after the way his own father had been, Anomen should know better. Maybe he really felt there was simply nothing he could do.

Life had been most unfair to Anomen as well. Every time he thought he had gotten what he wanted, that he was happy at last, the fates conspired to take it away again. And Anomen had always done what Helm had asked of him; it just didn't seem fair.

Oh, she knew it was wrong to blame the God's; even the most wicked deity was restrained bound by rules. So much power, but they could never use it either to harm or aid. They could only make their presence known through their mortal agents in this world… still, she never understood why people like Sarevok and Irenicus wanted to become God's. It seemed to her that having that much power just made one a prisoner.

Aerie remembered Danielle, Anomen's wife, although they had only met once for a short time. She had been sick, but the ranger was still tall and beautiful. She reminded Aerie of Jaheira, but Danielle was, well, far more approachable. Anomen had met her on a quest north, in Anauroch and, well, they'd fallen in love obviously. They were very happy, until just a few years later plague struck a village in the Western Heartlands. Anomen and Danielle had gone there to help but she became ill as well. It was there Aerie met her; the ranger was thin and pale but refused to rest until the villagers had been saved.

The disease was resistant to all the priests attempts to remove it magically; even when they succeeded, the patient only became ill again soon after worse than before and even harder to cure. Aerie had remembered reading, probably in one of Uncle Quayle's books, about a gnome who claimed that disease was spread by tiny creatures too small for the eye to see. There are many creatures who build up resistances to magic over time, so if it were true that these tiny creatures existed it was quite possible that they might as well and that more such plagues may appear in the future. It needed to be better understood, but in any case, although she could not cure most of those already infected it had been Aerie who identified the source of the sickness as the water taken from the town well. Jan and a whole team of gnomes created a machine to filter and purify the water and the sickness vanished.

It was in fact a breakthrough in health care on Faerun, although Aerie let Anomen and clerics from the Order take all the credit. The breakthrough however had come too late to save Danielle. All their spells, but they were powerless to do anything. Anomen grieved for a time, but then furiously threw himself back into quests for the order; they must have thought he was enjoying his work too much, for they soon called him back to be a trainer.

And now his daughter had been taken from him as well; Moira was the youngest of the kidnapped children; the poor thing must be terrified, wherever she was. Aerie didn't like the thought of the child spending another night separated from her home and family, but there was nothing she could do at least until after she had rested. A tired mind might make critical mistakes or not notice things that are important. But the elf couldn't sleep, though she knew she had to.

Aerie herself was no stranger to experiencing loss; she had been stolen away from her home, and then lost her wings… the loss of flight was traumatic for an Avariel, not just because flying was instinctive for her but because her people were geographically isolated from the rest of the world. Losing her wings meant she could not go back. Oh, with her power she possibly could find a way into the Avariel city, but in the eyes of her people she would be a cripple nonetheless. And she couldn't go back to how things were; she was no longer her parents little girl. Besides, it would be unfair on them to reappear after all this time; they had probably moved on and forgotten about her.

And Cassidy…When Aerie had suffered in her cage she thought she must have done something to deserve it, that maybe she was being punished for not obeying her parents. And then she thought that maybe everything had happened for a reason. She was confused when Baervar and Aerdrie started to grant her some of their strength; it was rarely ever heard for someone who wasn't a priest to be granted such powers. She prayed, as did countless others, yet the God's had chosen to favour her. And when Cassidy appeared, son of the dead God Bhaal on the path to his own destiny, she thought it had all become clear; the God's wanted her to help him. And now… well, now she feared that the world really was just random and that sometimes things happened that, no matter how hard you tried to make sense of them, there simply wasn't any.

"Number Seven?" Vesper asked, disturbing Aerie from her 'reverie' (a skill she'd never mastered anyway). Apparently the human woman, lying in another bed across the small room, couldn't sleep either.

"Yes?"

"Are you awake?"

"Er… yes I am."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Why did you become an adventurer?"

"Why?" Well, she had been thinking about the God's and their plans for her… but perhaps that wasn't really the reason. At least not all of it. "I… really didn't have much choice. I could have stayed in the circus, but… it was never a place I thought as home. Besides, feeding and cleaning up after animals wasn't exactly fulfilling after Quayle taught me how to cast magic missile. And then the God's came to me… I think those who have power have a responsibility to use it to help others."

"You could have joined a temple… I'm sure any of them would have been glad to have you."

"Maybe… but I was tired of being confined and bound to one place. I wanted to explore and see the world as well. Besides, monsters and evil-doers aren't always good enough to come to you."

"Weren't you afraid of getting hurt?"

"Hurt? No… not really. I was hardly a stranger to pain and loss… I'd come to regard them almost like old friends. I was afraid, but not of getting hurt… I was afraid of failure; of not being strong enough. Oh, and tight spaces. I've never been good with tight spaces… or crowds…"

"You must have been in dungeons a lot?"

"I just learnt to focus on something else… concentrate on the mission or bury my head in my spell books. Anything to keep my mind occupied… I got a lot done because of my claustrophobia. Anyway, I proved to everyone that I wasn't weak in the end."

"So, if you've nothing left to prove, then why haven't you stopped? Why weren't you at home with your family when all this happened?"

"I-I," Aerie sighed. She had welcomed the conversation up until now; it provided a distraction from the other voices in her head and she finally felt like she might sleep. Now her thoughts turned to more worries; she wondered often if she was being selfish not being home more often. But she felt it might be more selfish to stay; she had enemies after all, and was the seventh best spell caster in the whole area of the sword coast around Amn, apparently. Additionally, her children had a chance to lead normal lives and choose their own paths. A choice denied her. Besides, what would she do if she stayed in Nashkel all the time? She wouldn't be satisfied working in a temple and making potions. And as a parent… well, she knew Fay was spending a lot of time with that boy Klint. Aerie would have talked to her about it, but… what she say anyway? Unfortunately, the Avariel had been still a child when they locked in a cage, and was a woman when they let her out. There hadn't been anybody to explain to her all the new things she felt and the changes that had happened… she just had to muddle through it. She didn't know the first thing about flirting either; with Cassidy things just sort of happened. She trusted him enough to tell him how she felt (a level of trust she extended to few others), they talked and they fought together and eventually they grew to care for each other. Ask Aerie how to make yourself more attractive to men… well there'd be no point. She didn't know any answers.

There were a dozen reasons why Aerie couldn't stay in Nashkel; it didn't feel like home to her because nowhere did, she needed to adventure to earn money for her children to live comfortably and perhaps there were more selfish reasons like she simply enjoyed doing what she did and didn't really know how to do anything else. But in the end she settled for:

"I… I thought I was protecting them by helping to destroy monsters and criminals."

"You'd be better able to protect your children by being with them, don't you think?"

"Perhaps… but not always. My home was in the Sundabar mountains before the slavers came and took me to Amn… do you see, what happens here can affect the lives of ordinary people living hundreds of miles away. No, if I want to truly protect my family and prevent others suffering the same fate as I then I can't ignore anything unjust and evil wherever it appears. Someone has to fight," and of course it helped if you enjoyed it somewhat.

"But… it doesn't have to be you, does it?"

"No, it doesn't have to be. But how many others are there with the skill, power and will to make a difference? I could stay in Nashkel with my family and ignore what happens thoughout the rest of the world and tell myself it's okay because it doesn't affect my home," Aerie thought bitterly but thankfully briefly about Queen Ellesime sat on her throne away from the world, "I… I remember a story I heard once, about a tyrant King in a land far to the east, and the First in the temple to Azuth. The Ilmateri opposed the King, so the King has his army hunt them and their families down. The first watched it happen, but didn't intervene because they weren't his people. The same then happened to the Lathanderians, Tymorans, all of the druids; and all the while the First watched because he didn't think it affected him. And then one day, the soldiers burst into his temple… and do you know what happened?"

"Did Azuth strike the soldiers down?"

"No… God's can't interfere just like that. No, the First and his entire family and followers were all killed because his God's hands were tied… and because he'd done nothing all that time there was no one else left who could help him. You see, apathy is the friend of evil; never ignore injustice just because it isn't happening to you or in your home. Not if you don't want your children to be the next ones to suffer."

Aerie still lay looking up at the ceiling; she couldn't see Vesper, but the Avariel was sure she could hear the human woman's mind working as her brow furrowed in concentration.

"I… I'll have to think more on this," Vesper said at last, "well… goodnight, number seven."

"Yes… goodnight," Aerie smiled gently. It would still be a while before she fell asleep. She thought about Sir Keldorn, and made a note to visit his tomb when she got a chance. It must hurt his spirit to see that his daughter still hadn't fully forgiven him; but, maybe now Vesper would see that he was always thinking about her. As she thought of Fay and Quayle. She couldn't sleep without checking on them one more time… good. They were still safe.

--

Sarevok, leading the horses, walked behind the rest of his little party; force of habit really, as he preferred not leaving his back exposed to anyone. Although he knew none of them would try. Well, he didn't know much about the elf, Tamitha. Although if they were attacked on the way on this cabin she would be the only of any use. The rest were about as useful as a dog with no nose.

Even he wouldn't be much good out here; without the lamplight he was almost blind and could barely make out Fay, holding Klint's hand, walking in front of him.

"So… is the cabin far?" Quayle, clearly trying to be nonchalant, sidled up to Tamitha.

"No… not far," she stated plainly.

"Right. Good. So… you… you don't really say much do you?"

Tamitha turned to look at him with her sparkling green eyes, although her face remained blank and expressionless. Quayle had to remind himself to keep breathing; he'd never had a girl look at him before.

"There are many who talk at length but have very little to say," she explained, "I think it's a waste of energy."

"Oh, I agree absolutely. You should him them back in the village, endless chattering about all kinds of pointless dribble… 'Nice day isn't it', they say as if everyone else can't already see. 'How are you they ask, but the last thing they want is an honest answer. Just pointless waffle all day long. Don't know why they do it… I mean, imagine the advances that could be made if people put all the energy they put talking gibberish into… um… well, thinking about stuff…"

"Quite."

"Yes. So… um… you live out here then? Sorry… I already know you do. Er… it must be quiet, yes?"

"Indeed. I like it quiet."

"And, er, you… you're good with a bow and arrow I see…"

"I like arrows. They quickly get to the point."

"Right… um, sorry I'll just hang back a bit," Quayle, trying hard to maintain his non-chalance, backed away a few paces. Went well, he thought. Probably the longest conversation he'd ever had with a female apart from Fay and his mother.

"Why don't you show her your War Journal?" Fay whispered to her brother with a facetious grin. "I'm sure she'll be impressed by how many two inch tall metal men look up to you… and your skill rolling dice."

"I was talking to her," Quayle's neck disappeared suddenly as he hunched his shoulders. "I mean, we don't know much about her do we? She might like that sort of thing."

"Yeah right! Look at her… she's not the sort who spends her afternoons indoors playing tabletop battle games and all this other make believe. She's… attractive. And way out of your league I'm afraid."

"What?" Quayle was flustered. "I wasn't… I was talking to her. And anyway, you don't know that. She might be different."

"Maybe… but seeing the way she used that bow I doubt she's blind, deaf, and stupid. Just forget about it."

"You… you really think she won't like me?" the boy sagged.

"Do bears crap in the woods? Of course she won't… believe me, I've wished for a long time someone would take you away from me, but it's just not going to happen. It's bad enough I'm having to trudge through this forest late at night without having to watch your feeble attempts to… ugh! What have I just trodden in?"

"Heh… the answer to your previous question I think."

"We are here," Tamitha stated just as Fay shot an evil look at her brother.

There was a very faint light ahead of them; but it wasn't until you were almost right next to it that one realised that it was actually coming from the window to a wooden cabin. Small, unremarkable; it couldn't consist of any more than two or three small rooms. But it did have a small stable right next to it; the horses may feel a little cramped in there but at least they'd be safe from predators.

After securing the horses, Tamitha led them inside the cabin proper. There was a single candle lit inside, which the elf picked and used to light others in the room. As the illumination grew, they saw the cabin was exactly as it looked from outside. Three rooms; the one they were in now had a table, a small oven and a few other utensils. And sitting at the corner of the table was an old man with silver hair who looked up at them. He was wearing just his pants, and the skin on his torso had the texture of old leather suggesting he may have been quite formidable in his youth.

"Visitors?" He croaked. "I apologise for my state of undress… I wasn't expecting anyone other than Tami."

"I apologise, sir," the elf bowed humbly, "These were people were attacked and their vehicle damaged… I couldn't leave to the mercy of wolves."

"No, I suppose you couldn't," the old man sighed, "you are what you are after all… well, allow me to introduce myself. I am Brage. And I suppose you must Fay and Quayle?"

"Yes," Fay confirmed, although she naturally surprised, "But… how do you know that?"

"Oh, Tami keeps me informed of current events. She's the only link I have to the outside world now. You are the only half-elves living in Nashkel right now… I also knew your parents. Your father especially… he saved my life once, although looking back on it I still wonder if it was worth saving. And all I repaid him with was a cursed sword… if it helps repay the debt I owe then you are welcome to stay as long as you need."

"You knew our father? How… when?"

"To be honest, it's not a story I like to tell… I committed a terrible deed, and your father. If you want to know all the gruesome details I'm sure there are others around who will tell you. Your uncle, Sarevok Anchev, for instance. I seem to recall he was very interested in your father's deeds."

"Indeed I was… Captain," Sarevok nodded curtly.

"Captain? Been a long time since I've held any rank… so don't worry, I won't try to arrest you. I may be old but I haven't lost all my marbles just yet. Besides, we are kindred spirits in a way… Cassidy gave us both a second chance. A chance to make up for our crimes."

"Or to commit all new ones."

"Indeed… but this young man, I don't recognise you…"

"Klint," the boy bowed, "I… I know of your crimes and redemption, sir. My uncle, Nalin, told us of it."

"He was a good man," Brage nodded sadly, "well, as I said, you are all welcome to stay as long as you need."

"Tell us about Tamitha," Sarevok said suddenly. The elf in question was busy stoking a fire in the little oven, although she could certainly hear them.

"Tami? I'm sure she can answer on her own. There isn't much to tell… she's lived here a good few years now."

"An old man and a young elf maiden living alone in the woods together; there must be rumours."

"Perhaps… but I assure you I am too old a man to get up to anything you might be thinking. No, she looks after me and tidies up the place. We both have yearning for the peace and solitude out here."

"It was fortunate she came to our aid when she did."

"Not really," Tami stood up, "I had been following you since you left the village. I travel the road regularly between Nashkel and here."

"Well… if you forgive me gentlemen… ladies. An old man needs his rest. There are sacks and pillows. I'm sure Tamitha will see to all of you. Good night," Brage stood slowly, and hobbled away through the nearest door.

"I'm beat as well," Fay yawned and took hold again of Klints hand, "Come on, I want to make sure I sleep near the window," she tried to drag the young squire away, but found both of them were held firmly in place by her uncles hands on their shoulders.

"I think it best that you sleep in the other room with the elf girl," Sarevok suggested, in such that it was clear it wasn't really a suggestion. "The rest of us will remain in here."

"What?!" Fay flushed, "what do you…" she began, but then she saw the look on her uncles face. The look that said 'I may have given my word to your mother that I'd get you across the mountains safely… but I've made no promises regarding him'. "Fine," she huffed.

"This way please," Tamitha opened the door for her as the half-elf stormed away. Slowly, Sarevok turned his gaze to Klint. The squire furtively looked down at his feet.

"Um… y-you see I due to head south to Athkatla anyway, so I…"

"I am watching you boy," Sarevok glared, "It would be a shame if I were forced to beat another man to death… such a young one too."

"I-I… I understand, sir," the boy cowered. "I assure my intentions are honourable…"

Sarevok scoffed and released the boy. He stumbled into the corner next to Quayle.

"He, um… he doesn't like me, does he?" Klint said to his sweetheart's brother.

"Oh, don't be silly," Quayle shook his head, "He utterly hates you."


End file.
